


Stress Relief

by Alzerak



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Masturbation, Stress Relief, Vaginal Sex, of the very NSFW variety, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alzerak/pseuds/Alzerak
Summary: King Jon Snow has an arrangement with the Lady of Winterfell.  Feelings do not get in the way of the clinical solution to their problem they have found how dare you even suggest such a thing!  Also there's no feelings to begin with this is strictly important business nothing else.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	Stress Relief

As King, Jon was no stranger to administrative duties, and they could be enjoyable, given the right circumstances - which usually involved working alongside his sister, the Lady of Winterfell, Sansa Stark. Unfortunately, at this moment, Jon found no enjoyment, merely a distraction, as Sansa was spending time with the loathsome Petyr Baelish. Jon had good reason to mislike the man and the fact that his head was still attached to his odious person, yet as much as it vexed him, for now he put aside his own judgement to cleave in twain, and trusted for his sister’s wisdom in her dealings.

Fortunately, she made no secret in private of her loathing, and this almost made Jon wish to overrule their agreement and her calming for she still suffered his existence. His stomach churning at the thought of his Sansa having to suffer through Littlefinger’s presence and viper’s touches, Jon found welcome relief when his sister latched the door behind herself after entering the chambers.

The look on her face told him enough. It was unpleasant, but not enough to warrant the immediate use of Longclaw on Baelish’s soft, vulnerable body. But still, she needed…

As was the custom, she distracted herself by going over Jon’s work, interjecting with her own work from previous hours, making suggestions that were mostly just musing out loud, but they both would look over in more detail when time permitted. 

Jon allowed himself a moment of gratification as he took in the sight of Sansa Stark from behind; much as he loved the sight of her front, especially the wolf bits, Jon had as much admiration for her shapely rear, his cock hardening as she bent slightly to study the documentation on the table, her shimmering, flowing red hair sweeping over the back of her dress, just short enough so that her arse could be presented to his gaze in the skirt of her well-fitted dress.

Yet he must not be selfish and be considerate only of his own pleasure of gazing upon her beautiful form, and even though he allowed himself a gentle touch along the side of her body, his hands ghosting over her hips as his practiced feel sought out the detachable part of her skirt that Sansa had cleverly created, his hands feeling around as he allowed his crotch to nestle into her, Sansa releasing a breath of anticipation and Jon himself hissing between his teeth as even through all their shared garments his manhood felt the joy of the touch of Sansa Stark.

Carefully, Jon finished unclasping the skirt of Sansa’s dress, neatly draping it over the chair he had been sitting on moments previously. This time, she had worn her undergarments, smooth silk that were just the wrong shade to match her skin. Jon moved to rectify this, though he allowed himself to run a gentle caress over the bare skin of Sansa’s arse as he exposed it, such gentle touches almost more taboo than what they were about to indulge in. Sansa shifted her posture to a more comfortable setting, as Jon untied his breeches, freeing his eager cock as he stroked his already painfully hard length at the sight of Sansa’s bare arse, her undergarment delicately perched on her legs, ready to slip away, the barest glimpse of her cunt teasing him and fuelling his desires further. He could spend now, yet that was not to be done, and he shifted forward, lining his cock up, and with an unplanned, synchronized exhalation, sheathed himself in Sansa’s wet, perfect quim.

He needed a moment to gather himself, be it the first time or the thousandth, he’d never truly be prepared for the sheer explosion of pleasure that was being inside Sansa, for if there was any heaven, it must be her sweet cunt. Jon grasped at her hips as he fought a monumental struggle within himself not to spend, and Sansa, so good and wonderful, stayed perfectly still to allow Jon to control himself, spreading her legs wider so his cock slipped further into her slick cunny when he gripped her hips with both hands.

Now, Jon started to move; he needed to build up slowly, lest he spill too soon, yet he could not take all the time he needed, for he would spill regardless of his care if his cock were inside Sansa Stark’s warm cunny for too long. 

Distracting himself, Jon tightened his grip on her hips, his fingers splayed around. Briefly, he wondered if he’d leave a mark, but hissed under his breath as his cock responded, twitching though inside her as he delved deeper than any of his strokes so far, catching his breath as he noticed Sansa’s right hand had clutched into a first at the sensation of feeling his manhood deep in her quim, the sight and feel of her breathing an indication of the pleasure she felt.

Yet he could not allow himself to spend time considering the fact that Sansa was receiving pleasure, or indeed, that it was his cock and he himself that was sharing pleasure with her, for he would surely lose control. He had even told her such, that he would not be able to control himself were he to look upon the subtle expressions she might make even if she tried to control herself. She barely whimpered but even her hitches of breath frequently nearly ended him. He would, of course, take himself in hand to the memory of their encounters - it was almost shameful, despite the fact that they both agreed that they needed stress-relieving pleasure from the tension of rule, his self-enjoyment in the privacy of his bedchambers might be beyond such an agreement. At times, just the memory of his cock moving inside her cunt and the imagination of her face in bliss was enough to cause him to spill freely, his hands twisted in his sheets. 

Knowing that he would not last much longer, and feeling her quim’s welcoming pull, almost cajoling his seed, Jon knew that he must move with more purpose. Her cunny was too good, she was too good, she felt too good, too perfect and too wonderful around him. He wanted so desperately to draw her closer, to smell her sweet scents as he kissed her whilst he spilled his seed inside her wonderful cunt, yet he could not even tell her how good she felt, for it would be too much. Instead, he moved his hands from her hips up to between her shoulders to push her down on the desk, and Sansa obeyed with practiced ease as she grasped the edge of the table as her King fucked her wet, willing and welcoming quim harder and faster still, allowing him to be in control even as the table shook and she could not help but let out a moan and groan at the sensation of his cock moving back and forth in her cunny, almost involuntarily she began to move against him, her instincts overriding her knowledge that he must not spill inside her, though in her heart she suspected both would welcome it when he would. She felt his hand move back to her neck as her own counter-thrusts became too prominent, forcing her head to the table as he increased the speed of his own thrusts, her cunt twitching in pleasure as she knew that such behaviour indicated he was on the precipice of exploding within her, frantically climbing Sansa to her own peak before he reached his own. Her head turned to the side, and pressed against the desk, she saw him out of the corner of her eye, unfocused, and heard his muttered prayer to her, her cunny tingling at the sensation of power of bringing him to the brink of such pleasure. Her entire body began to feel hot all over, her breasts heaved as she tried to breath heavily to compensate for the sensation. Her dress was entirely too tight, and she pushed herself up.

Jon instantly stopped. Mercifully, he did not pull his cock from her still pulsating cunny, and it took but a moment for Sansa to unclasp the top of her dress, freeing herself, though it felt like eons in the moment. When Jon noticed that her issues were merely being too constrained in her garment, he paused and allowed Sansa to fix herself, doubtlessly on the verge of spilling, yet she allowed herself the wantonness of sliding her slick cunny down his shaft to indicate she was ready to resume, her dress opened a little to allow herself room to breath, as she felt his cock on the brink of exploding his release inside her.

She moved back to allow Jon to fuck her as hard as he needed without banging her legs against the table, with every stroke her cunt felt as though it would draw his cock to explode inside her, painting her quim with his seed, yet he maintained control, though all focus was on such, moving faster and faster Jon was now groaning aloud and holding, and moving his hands over her body as her cunny felt his desperation, bringing him to the brink of his pleasure encouraging it to find her own zenith, practiced movements giving way to desperation as he sought to trigger her release moments before his own, his hands moving from gripping her around the hips to steadying her with one and pushing her whole body down onto his cock. The sensation of his strong hands moving her brought her to her peak, her cunt trembling as the cascade of her orgasm shook through her body just as Jon forced her off him, her body crashing onto the table as he stumbled back into his seat, Sansa pushing her toes up so Jon could look upon her cunny even as her quim quivered with the shocks of sheer pleasure she was experiencing.

Catching her breath, she turned to see Jon seated, his cock looking almost painfully hard. She dared not touch him herself; as delicate as their arrangement was, but knew that it might be painful for him were he to be brought to a brink and cruelly denied his release.

She caught his eye as he stood to consider her, ensuring she was satisfied. Smiling, and biting her lip at her own wicked wantonness, Sansa backed onto a clear spot on the desk, perching herself and spreading her legs wide, presenting her flushing pink cunt, freshly pleasured by Jon’s leaking cock, Sansa nodded slightly at Jon’s gaze requested clarification, as the flush bloomed over her whole body at the almost worshipful attention her cunny was receiving as Jon began to stroke his cock, both on the brink of release and needing to build up after being cruelly denied spilling inside his sister’s sweet cunt.

Though she had felt it inside her, Sansa rarely got to see the manhood that drove her to such extremes of delight and bliss, and seeing Jon pleasure himself awoke both a jealousy that she could not be the one to do so and a selfish desire to touch her own cunny as he did, and to have him watch, yet it would not be fair to him, for she had already reached her pleasure. The wicked part of her saw he was on the brink of spilling as he stroked, but wished it was by her action, and she sighed, almost involuntarily, but it got his attention, and Jon looked up to see Sansa’s eyes blown deep blue with lust, and her hand moved across her chest, bringing the dress and undergaments with it as she revealed her breast to him for the first time, as perfect as the rest of her, her pink nipple the same shade as her lips as Jon tried to take stock, his cock twitched from his slack grasp, erupting his seed and squirting it twice onto the vividly red curls atop her flowering cunt, his cock twitching as a globule of seed arced and splashed onto her perfect tit, mercifully missing her dress as Jon grasped his wild cock as he took in the sheer visual sensation of Sansa’s delight at his seed spilled on her, his hand moving faster than ever as his manhood squirted his seed thrice more against her cunny. Finally, his release satiated, Jon staggered forward, wanting a closeness that neither dared attempt but both wished. But Sansa did not push him back, so Jon almost magnetically was drawn to lean forward, his forehead against hers as they began to process together. Sansa moved first, leaning forward to perhaps nuzzle her cheek against, but she paused at the sensation of his cock at her cunt, feeling the stickiness of his own seed painted across the hair of her cunt tacky against the head of his manhood as he waited for Sansa to move, and move she did, shifting herself so that his manhood was engulfed in her quim once more, Jon’s mouth falling opening in an expression of sheer bliss as Sansa gently kissed his cheek as he felt her cunny pulsing again.

“Thank you, Jon.” Sansa breathed to him as she nuzzled him, drawing him closer to a half embrace as she whispered her confession into his ear. “I’ll touch myself to us tonight.”

He could not see her face, but he felt the heavenly perfection of the pleasure of her cunt as she reached her peak again, whilst her cunny pulsated around him, Jon wondered if he dared join her that evening. Sansa’s smile as she slicked her thoroughly satisfied quim off his cock told him he would be welcome if he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a monster for not letting Jon eat out the sister I am unforgivable but you know the idiot will fall hopelessly in love with her if he did and won't even be able to disguise it if he did let it be known it torments him so that he hasn't tbh he'll probably go to her chambers and feast tonight honestly they're both useless at pretending it's nothing more than relief to them.


End file.
